


like a film without sound

by renaissance



Series: Haikyuu!! Rarepair Week 2015 [7]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, Graduation, HQ Rarepair Week, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 13:43:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3652542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renaissance/pseuds/renaissance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The last day of school is the first day of forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	like a film without sound

**Author's Note:**

> [Haikyuu!! Rarepair Week](http://hqrarepairweek.tumblr.com/) Day 7: ~~Free Prompt /~~ Graduation
> 
>  
> 
> I was going to say that this is totally self-indulgent, but you know what, if I'm not enjoying it then what's the point? I mean it's still very much self-indulgent but hopefully you'll get as much out of it as I do! Anyway this is on the same timeline as "slow down, you're taking me over" and its predecessor "Saturday Night Sendai"—once again, non-essential but recommended pre-reading. Also the moment I saw that this day's prompt was graduation, I knew this'd be an EnnoFuta graduation fic. And since I wrote the first fic in this ship tag (and now there are THREE OTHERS NOT BY ME!!!) it seems fitting to end what's been a fairly high-pressure but also super fun week on this note. Once again, this ship got me carried away. Thank you to everyone who's been reading and commenting this week—it's made it all the more enjoyable. (Also, two new character tags for the archive; you're welcome.)
> 
> Title is from Vitamin C's "Graduation" because I'm a 90s Kid™ and I like making myself sad.

( **03:09** )

 

“Hello?”

Chikara has his phone wedged between his shoulder and his ear. It’s an uncomfortable angle, but it frees up both his hands to write. Since exams ended, he’s been letting himself stay up late again and working on screenplays without the added pressure that they’ll be going in his portfolio. He feels like he’s writing at a higher calibre now, though, and he’s got his acceptance letter tacked to his pinboard to remind him that there’s no more room in his life for handheld cameras and soundtracks coming from a radio in the background. He can barely see the letter with only his lamp for light, but knowing it’s there is good enough.

There’s a groan from the phone. “Chikara. It’s _three in the morning_.”

“Oh,” he says, clicking his document out of full screen mode. “Huh. So it is.”

“Do I get an apology?” Kenji asks.

“I’ll consider it,” Chikara says, saving his document. He shifts so that he’s at a more comfortable angle and takes hold of his phone.

Kenji mutters something that’s probably quite rude. “And anyway, what happened to the whole getting over your insomnia thing?”

“It’s not insomnia,” Chikara says defensively. “I’m never actually tired. One of the main symptoms of insomnia is—”

“I’m taking you to a doctor tomorrow,” Kenji interrupts, yawning a bit.

Chikara sighs. “Tomorrow is our graduation.”

“That’s _today_ ,” Kenji says. “Three in the morning, remember?”

“It’s not today until I wake up,” Chikara says. “On _Saturday_ —Kenji, I don’t need to see a doctor.”

“Maybe you’re just nervous,” Kenji says.

“About graduating?”

Of course Chikara is nervous. It’s bigger than any volleyball match, and more than that, it’s probably the last day he’ll be around all of his friends at once. He still hasn’t told them that he’s been accepted into a film studies and production course in Tokyo. Every day he puts it off only makes him more anxious about how he’s going to put it into words.

“Yeah, about graduating,” Kenji says. “Duh.”

“Well, sure, a bit,” Chikara says, downplaying it. “But it won’t be too bad. I mean, my parents will be there—most of the family’s coming down, actually, since I’m the last to graduate until my nieces and nephews get old enough—so that’s incentive enough, you know, not to cry in front of them…”

“Lucky for some,” Kenji says. There’s a hint of something in his voice, something almost bitter.

“What’s that meant to mean?” Chikara asks.

“Ugh,” Kenji says, “the usual shit. Dad’s overseas at a conference, mum’s in court.”

“And your sister?”

“School,” Kenji says. “It’s not like I would have wanted them to make a big deal out of it, though. So I guess I’m okay with it.”

Chikara hums. “What time is your graduation?”

“Two, why do you—Chikara, _no_.”

“And how late does it go?”

“Chikara,” Kenji says, sounding more awake than he did a few seconds ago, “you are _not_ coming to my graduation.”

Chikara grins at his dark room. 

“Stop me.”

 

* * *

 

( **03:42** )

 

“Go to _bed_ , Chikara!” Kenji yells. “Shit, fuck, I think I woke Shiori up. If you don’t hear from me tomorrow, assume she murdered me—”

“Kenji, stop panicking,” Chikara says. “I’m getting kind of tired, I guess. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Like hell you will,” Kenji says. 

Chikara laughs, and hangs up.

 

* * *

 

( **04:01** )

 

Chikara closes his laptop and crawls into bed.

 

* * *

 

( **06:05** )

 

Five minutes after hitting snooze on his alarm it goes off again, and Chikara gets up for real this time. It’s still sort of dark outside, but that’s not going to put Chikara off. He’s full of energy, more jumpy than usual, more alert.

He’s nervous.

 

* * *

 

( **07:16** )

 

It’s a perfect day to graduate. Not too cold, not too warm, and a freshness in the air that makes Chikara want to take his jacket off and run.

He doesn’t, though. He’s too close to school.

A group of Chikara’s classmates are gathered outside the hall, but he doesn’t stop to chat. He’s looking for Tanaka, and judging by the sounds coming from the second gym, Tanaka is _not_ ready to graduate.

“We tried to stop them,” Kazuhito says when Chikara gets to the gym.

“Clearly not very hard,” Chikara says.

“I mean,” Hisashi begins, but cuts himself off with a shrug. They’re both in their uniforms too.

“This is the last time we get to wear these numbers,” Kazuhito says.

“And we’re not the ones playing volleyball and crying,” Hisashi says.

“Just the volleyball part,” Kazuhito says with a laugh.

Chikara is quietly of the opinion that they’ll be crying sooner or later. Hisashi wept like a baby when they watched Titanic back in first year, and Kazuhito is always unexpectedly emotional when it comes to their volleyball team.

“CAPTAIN!” Tanaka shouts. “Come to join us?”

“Ah,” Chikara says. It’s been a year, and he’s still not used to being called Captain. “Actually, I wanted to ask—”

“C’mon,” Noya interrupts. “Chikara, it’s our last chance!”

“Your uniform is still in the storeroom,” Tanaka adds.

Hisashi sneaks up behind Chikara and punches him in the arm. “Don’t let your team down, Captain.” 

Chikara sighs. “Guess there’s no getting out of it, huh?”

 

* * *

 

( **07:50** )

 

Chikara clutches onto the number one on his shirt. They’re in a pile beneath the net, sweaty and exhausted and crying, and Chikara is certain this is the most embarrassing thing he’s done in his life, more embarrassing even than when he kissed Kenji in front of his entire team at their last Spring High.

At least now, he reflects, the first and second years aren’t there to laugh at him. Just his fellow third years.

“I don’t wanna leave,” Noya mumbles into Chikara’s shoulder. Chikara’s got his back on the floor, and the others are all clustered around him. Noya’s claimed one arm, and Hisashi the other.

“We could just live here in the gym,” Tanaka says, like it’s an actual option he’s genuinely considering.

“They’d kick us out,” Kazuhito says reasonably.

“But I’m going to _miss_ you guys,” Noya says, breaking into sobs again.

They’re all vulnerable now, and Chikara hasn’t seen any of them like this outside of volleyball. It’s a good thing they’re all wearing their uniforms, otherwise it would get weird quickly.

And because of that, because there’s no way this can get worse, Chikara decides it’s the perfect time to ruin the mood.

“I’m not going to be around next year,” he says.

“What do you mean?” Noya demands.

“I got into Nihon University,” Chikara says. “They’ve got a good film and production course, and—”

“TOKYO?” Tanaka shouts, sitting up. “You’re going to _Tokyo_?”

“Yeah,” Chikara breathes. It feels good to finally say it aloud to someone other than his family or Kenji. It was probably unhealthy to keep it a secret for as long as he did.

He knows that Tokyo is one of Noya’s options too—he and Tanaka have both been scouted by various universities, but Tanaka wants to stay closer to home, while Noya is keen to spread his wings. Kazuhito has mostly applied to universities in Europe to study languages, whereas Hisashi is just looking for a job.

He should have told them sooner.

“You bastard,” Hisashi says.

Chikara laughs. “Sorry.”

“No you’re not,” Noya says.

“No,” Chikara says. “I’m not.”

 

* * *

 

( **08:14** )

 

“At least tell me what time you finish,” Chikara says.

“No!” Kenji says. “Why are you so hell-bent on coming to my graduation, anyway?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions,” Chikara says.

Kenji sighs. “I suppose there’s nothing I can do to stop you?”

“Out of interest,” Chikara says, “why is it that you don’t want me to come?”

There’s a pause. Chikara wonders if maybe he’s pushing it a bit—but, it’s Kenji. He needs to be pushed sometimes. He responds better to being pushed than gently tapped on the shoulder.

“Four,” Kenji says. “It’s on track to finish at four, but it’ll probably go later.”

“Thanks,” Chikara says. “That gives us plenty of time to get to Sendai for dinner.”

“We’re still doing that?” Kenji asks.

“I mean, if you want to,” Chikara says.

It had started small, as Noya’s idea for all of them to go out on the town, and then significant others were invited, and friends from other schools, and it became bigger than anyone could keep track of. Several times, Chikara’s come close to backing out and spending the evening at Kenji’s. Every time, his team spirit pushes him back in line 

“And for the record,” Kenji says, “I didn’t want you there because you make me _embarrassing_. But I guess that’s unavoidable.”

“Ah, I like it when you’re embarrassing,” Chikara says.

“Hey,” Kenji says, in what Chikara recognises as a desperate attempt to change the subject, most probably accompanied by a lot of blushing, “do you think they’d recognise us at that meat restaurant?”

 

* * *

 

( **08:31** )

 

“Ready?” Kazuhito asks.

“Are you?” Chikara asks back. Because, no, he’s not.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Kazuhito says. “And you… ?”

They’re milling outside the hall with the rest of class 4, and the air feels like it’s vibrating around Chikara’s head. His fingers are twitching to hold a pen—there’s so much going on around him that could have appeared right out of a film. There’s someone being confessed to in class 3. There’s a cherry blossom tree in full bloom, and groups of friends are taking selfies beneath it. Chikara wants to write it all down, to remember every second.

“I want to,” he says, “but that doesn’t mean I’m ready.”

“I’m here for you if you cry,” Kazuhito says.

“I’ll pass,” Chikara says.

 

* * *

 

( **08:54** )

 

(From: Kenji) _good luck! don’t cry!!_ ☆

 

* * *

 

( **09:26** )

 

The whole school is in this hall. If Chikara cranes his neck around, he can see his family clustered at the back. They take up a lot of space, so they’re hard to miss.

He’s trying to be patient through all the singing, and as they call the names one by one—and failing.

It’s worth the wait, though, for—

“Ennoshita Chikara, class 4, captain of the volleyball club.”

—and hearing his diploma read out, and seeing his family clapping, and the loud cheers that are unmistakably Tanaka and Noya, and coming off the stage to where Kazuhito is waiting, along with a handful of others from class 4.

And Chikara can’t help it. He cries.

 

* * *

 

( **11:13** )

 

Once Chikara’s done being mooned over by his parents and laughed at by his siblings, he finds Tanaka and Noya at the other side of the crowd.

“Tanaka—”

“Captain! Have you said goodbye to our kouhai yet?” Tanaka asks.

“I’ll see them in a minute,” Chikara says. He doesn’t add that, even though he never became very close to the first years, he’s got all of the second years’ numbers in his phone, and he chats to Yamaguchi on skype every other night. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Yeah?” Tanaka asks.

Chikara glances around. “Uh, is your sister here?”

“Huh? Of course,” Tanaka says. He narrows his eyes. “You’re not planning to do anything weird, are you?”

“Ryuu,” Noya hisses, elbowing Tanaka, “he’s got a boyfriend!”

Tanaka calms down a bit at that, but he’s still alert. “Sure,” he says, “but all I want to know is why you’re asking.”

“I wonder,” Chikara says, “if Saeko-san would let me borrow her van.”

Tanaka and Noya share a look. “What do you want it for?” Tanaka asks.

“It’s sort of awkward,” Chikara says, “but I’ll have it back by the time we meet for dinner.”

“The _whole afternoon_?” Tanaka says.

“Ahh,” Noya says, “I think I get it.” 

Tanaka furrows his eyebrows. “Huh?”

Chikara doesn’t want to tell them, but he also doesn’t want to find out whether or not Noya’s guess is correct. “It’s Datekou’s graduation this afternoon,” he explains. “Kenji’s family can’t make it, so I—uh, the buses are too unreliable, and there are no trains at the right time, and—”

“Say no more!” Tanaka says, grinning and clapping Chikara on the shoulder. “No promises, but I’ll ask her!”

 

* * *

 

( **11:41** )

 

It takes Chikara a few blocks to get the hang of Saeko’s car, but once he does, it’s smooth sailing. The traffic isn’t so bad, and with the windows down there’s a cool wind blowing Chikara’s hair out of his face. He imagines the whole scene looks something like either the opening of a film, or the exuberant ending. 

He prefers to think it’s the opening.

At every red light, he jots down all the important details of his graduation on a notepad kept in his lap—one day he’ll have to write a graduation scene into one of his screenplays. He’ll write it, and then make himself emotional all over again. The thought of sitting through two graduation ceremonies in one day is almost too much. But then, he can’t think of anywhere else he’d rather spend the afternoon.

 

* * *

 

( **12:14** )

 

Chikara decides that just having one person in a van is sort of lonely. It needs to be full of people—no matter how distracting that could get—because there’s so much _space_. 

Or maybe it’s just that being alone on graduation day isn’t fun at all.

 

* * *

 

( **13:02** )

 

(To: Kenji) _I’m early. How quickly can you get to the parking lot?_

(From: Kenji) _see you in five_

(To: Kenji) _White van, can’t miss it._

 

* * *

 

( **13:06** )

 

Chikara looks up from his watch. “Four minutes, huh?”

Kenji laughs, and Chikara leans back against the side of the van. It’s been too long since they’ve spent any substantial time together without studying. The end of the year was busier than either of them could have expected.

“Nice ride,” Kenji says. “Where’d you steal it?”

“Very funny,” Chikara says. “I _borrowed_ it from Tanaka’s sister.”

“You sure don’t mess around. It’s been, what, a month since you got your Class 1 license?”

Chikara shrugs. “Three weeks.”

There’s a pause, but they’re long past the point of silences being stilted, awkward things. Kenji scuttles around the van, peering through the windows and looking contemplative.

“I only have to be back at quarter-to,” he says. “And this seems pretty… pretty private, you know?”

It takes Chikara a moment, and when the meaning of Kenji’s words dawns on him, his jaw drops a bit. “You want to—”

“Why not?” Kenji asks. “There’s no-one around.”

He leans forward to press their foreheads together, but he misfires and it’s more of a headbutt than a romantic touch.

“You’re incorrigible,” Chikara says, laughing.

“Most people say that’s part of my charm,” Kenji says 

“No-one has ever said that to you,” Chikara says, grabbing Kenji’s tie and yanking it for good measure.

“Except you,” Kenji says.

They don’t stay outside the van for much longer.

 

* * *

 

( **13:39** )

 

“I’m buying flowers for Saeko-san,” Chikara says, closing the van’s door behind him. “Come on, you’re going to be late!”

 

* * *

 

( **13:56** )

 

Chikara finds his way into a seat at the back of the hall, beside a middle-aged woman reading through the graduation leaflet. She looks up when Chikara sits down, a startled impression on her face.

“You must have come from far away,” she says. “Are you here with anyone else?”

“Ah, no, it’s just me,” Chikara says, sort of amazed that a stranger is speaking to him.

“And are you here for a sibling or a cousin?” she asks.

Chikara reasons she must just be nosy. “Actually,” he says, “for my boyfriend.”

He could have predicted the noise of discontent that she makes. Chikara’s about to start regretting ever opening his mouth when a girl in front of him wearing what he recognises as a Niiyama uniform turns around and gives him a big grin.

“I’m here for my girlfriend!” she says.

Chikara notices that there’s an empty seat next to her. “Ah, well…”

He stands up, lifting a foot over and jumping into the spare chair before anyone can comment.

“Don’t mind her,” the girl says, clearing her throat and looking slyly over her shoulder. “She’s just my future mother-in-law.”

 

* * *

 

( **16:24** )

 

When the ceremony finishes, Chikara swaps numbers with his new friend from Niiyama and waits for Kenji outside the school hall. He's impressed, actually. Kenji never mentioned that he’d got such good grades, but the principal had spoken pretty clearly as he read out Kenji’s diploma.

One of the other classes comes out first, and Chikara recognises Obara among them.

“Futakuchi didn’t think you’d actually come,” Obara says.

“He didn’t want me to. He said he would embarrass himself,” Chikara says. It’s almost the truth.

“I wonder when he’ll realise that he’s _always_ embarrassing,” Obara muses.

Chikara bites back a laugh—behind Obara, he can see Kenji and Aone among the class leaving the hall. Aone peels off to talk to a tiny woman with broad shoulders who can only be his mother, and Chikara is about to wave to get Kenji’s attention, but Kenji notices him first.

The first thing that Chikara notices is that Kenji is surrounded by girls. He’s always known that Kenji’s popular, but he’s never put too much thought into what that might entail. Thankfully, the second thing he notices is Kenji pointing in his direction.

“I _told_ you he’s cute,” Kenji says, a bit too loudly. So much for not being embarrassing.

“Ohh, he is!” one of the girls says. “You’re lucky to be punching so far above your weight.”

“You’re on your own,” Obara says, patting Chikara on the shoulder and disappearing into the crowd.

Chikara sighs and turns his attention back to his ridiculous and fast-approaching boyfriend.

“Chikara,” Kenji whines,  “tell them you're not out of my league!”

“Do you even _have_ a league?” Chikara jokes.

“Harsh,” Kenji says.

“We should probably hit the road soon,” Chikara says, “if we want to get to Sendai in time to meet everyone else.”

“Aone should be ready soon,” Kenji says, “so then we’ll—”

“Where are you going?” one of Kenji’s friends asks. It's a second before Chikara recognises her as Datekou’s former manager.

“Ah,” Kenji says, “Nametsu, you can’t come.”

“Why _not_ ,” Nametsu demands.

“Uh,” Chikara says, “there’s room for a few more in the van. And Noya did say we could invite whoever we wanted… 

“Yeah, but,” Kenji says, “she’s just going to bully me.”

“Too late; he invited me!” Nametsu says victoriously, punching Kenji in the arm.

 

* * *

 

( **16:47** )

 

Aone is sandwiched between Nametsu and two of her friends in the back row of seats in Saeko-san’s van, and Kenji hasn’t stopped laughing since Chikara started driving. Realistically, Aone shouldn't have had to get his seat based on the outcome of drawing straws with Obara and Onagawa, who're in the middle where there's less room. But Kenji called shotgun and, anyway, Chikara suspects that the girls just wanted to sit next to Aone and rigged the straws.

“Hey, Chikara, do you think we can get the radio in here?” Kenji asks, finally running out of excuses to keep laughing at Aone.

“Try it,” Chikara says. He’s not fond of having music on while he drives, especially not with so many people in the van, but he knows Kenji won’t give up so he’s not going to prolong it.

Kenji flicks the switch experimentally and suddenly the van is filled with noise.

“What _is_ this?” Nametsu asks.

“Saeko-san must keep a CD in here,” Chikara says.

“Obviously,” Kenji says, reaching across the gear stick to nudge Chikara.

“Hey, no distracting the driver.”

“Ah,” Onagawa says, “this is Flatbacker, right?”

“I can’t believe Pantalons listens to something other than psychedelia,” Kenji says in a stage whisper.

Chikara responds with a half-hearted smile, keeping his eyes on the road ahead of him.

“You wouldn’t know good music if it hit you, Futakuchi,” Onagawa says. “I’ve seen the trash on your ipod.”

“I think he genuinely believes he’s got good taste,” Obara says. Chikara can’t tell if he’s referring to Kenji or Onagawa. 

“That’s it,” Kenji says, “I’m turning it off.”

Chikara catches his eye and gives him a quick smile. Kenji smirks back like he knows exactly what he’s doing, which he probably doesn’t, but it’s the thought that counts.

 

* * *

 

( **17:26** )

 

“Five red lights later,” Onagawa narrates into his phone, “and the van is starting to feel like a prison.”

Obara leans over to stick his head into the camera’s frame. “Ennoshita has told us the traffic was just fine on the way down. We’re having our doubts.”

Onagawa shifts out of the way. “Any comments, Aone?”

“No,” Aone says.

Chikara can’t make out what happens next in the rear-view mirror, but one of Nametsu’s friends lets out a peal of laughter, and Onagawa shouts frantically, “Give it back!”

“Serves you right for making a sub-par documentary,” Kenji says.

“Futakuchi provides a comment, even though he was not approached for one,” Onagawa says, apparently having reclaimed his phone. “As usual.”

“All I’m saying is, Chikara can make better films with his eyes clo—”

“Blah, blah, did I mention I’ve got a boyfriend?” Onagawa mocks. “He’s _so_ perfect and dreamy, you guys, have I mentioned him yet today? Yes? Let me mention him again.”

“Uncanny,” Chikara says. “You’ve got a future in stand-up comedy, Onagawa.”

“This is bullying,” Kenji says. “Chikara, kick him out of the van.”

“Sorry,” Chikara says, lifting his foot off the brake pedal, “light’s green.”

 

* * *

 

( **18:01** )

 

When they make it to the restaurant, the crowd from Karasuno are already waiting outside.

“What took you so long?” Hisashi asks. “Was there a natural disaster on the way?”

“Yeah,” Kenji says, “ _someone_ wouldn’t shut up with his stupid graduation day documentary.”

“How is that any more of a natural disaster than literally everything that happens when you open your mouth?” Onagawa retaliates.

“You wouldn’t believe it, but they’re very close friends,” Chikara says, stepping into the restaurant behind Hisashi as Aone prises Kenji and Onagawa apart.

“Not _too_ close,” Kenji says, catching up and latching onto Chikara’s arm. Chikara obliges and threads their fingers together, so there's no mistaking exactly how close _they_ are.

 

* * *

 

 

( **18:33** )

 

“That’s Obara,” Chikara says, angling his phone down the table, “and Onagawa, both of them from Datekou.”

“Who invited them, again?” Kenji chimes in.

“You did,” Chikara says. “Anyway, they’re my rivals now, because I’m proving that I can make a better graduation day documentary than they can.”

“You started too late,” Noya says, his mouth half-full.

Chikara sighs. “Yeah, I’ve just been writing everything down, but this is a better idea, in hindsight.”

He turns the camera onto Noya and Tanaka, who’re eating more vigorously than usual, presumably to hide the fact that they’re sad. “That’s Noya, and that’s Tanaka. They’re probably the protagonists.”

“Huh?” Tanaka asks, looking up. “Why us?”

“Stage presence,” Chikara explains. “I’m on the other side of the camera for a reason.”

“Hey,” Kenji says, physically turning the phone onto himself, “what about me?”

“Remember what happened the last time I let you act in one of my films?” Chikara asks patiently.

“You cut all the scenes,” Kenji says, “because the world wasn’t ready for me.”

“Something like that,” Chikara says.

“Come on,” Kenji presses, “you said the camera loved me.”

Chikara frowns at that. “Yeah, and then you opened your mouth and started chewing the scenery.”

Noya spits, spraying food all over his plate. “ _What_?”

“It’s a turn of phrase,” Chikara says, quite deliberately not facing the camera anywhere near the mess on the other side of the table. “It means his acting was too exaggerated.”

“At least I looked good,” Kenji says, flicking his fringe out of his eyes.

 

* * *

 

( **19:02** )

 

The sun’s gone down and it’s dark outside, and the only light is from the atmospheric lanterns in the restaurant. It’s poor lighting for a phone camera, so Onagawa’s given up on his documentary and started taking photos of their food—an abortive endeavour, because most of it has been eaten by now.

“How long have we been here?” Kenji asks, resting his chin in his hands.

“About an hour and a half,” Chikara says. “That bored?”

“More, uh, restless,” Kenji says. “Sort of want to escape, sort of want to stay here forever.”

Chikara hums to himself. “You really don’t like change, do you?”

Kenji frowns. “Is it obvious?”

“Well, when we first met, I thought you’d be a fairly reckless person,” Chikara says. “But you’re more restrained than that.”

“Did I really give you that impression?” Kenji asks, laughing. “And more importantly—what can I do to bring it back?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Chikara says.

Kenji leans in closer and lowers his voice. “Not even a spontaneous detour via the bathrooms?”

Chikara considers it.

* * *

 

 

( **19:29** )

 

“Do I need to ask where you two have been?” Hisashi asks.

Chikara shakes his head, flopping back down into his seat.

“It’s a long story,” Kenji says. “Wouldn’t want to bore you with the details.”

 

* * *

 

 

( **20:18** )

 

Kenji drags Chikara out onto the restaurant’s balcony when no-one is paying attention to them—Nametsu’s hit it off with Kazuhito’s girlfriend, her friends have started chatting up Tanaka, and Aone is occupied in a painfully one-sided discussion with Hisashi.

“It’s chilly out here,” Chikara comments.

“Sorry,” Kenji says, wincing. “I just had to get you alone for a minute.”

“Incorrigible,” Chikara says, too unsurprised to do anything other than laugh.

“Not like that,” Kenji says, nudging Chikara. “Since I was the first person you told about _your_ university offers, I thought—”

“No _way_ ,” Chikara says, letting out a laugh. “When?”

“Over the last couple of weeks,” Kenji says, “I got a few, but I accepted one last night.”

“And you still haven’t told your parents?”

“Like they care,” Kenji says. At Chikara’s frown, he puffs out his chest. “Come on, they know that one way or another I’m leaving home, whether for Sendai or somewhere else. And if that _somewhere else_ happens to be a bit further away—”

“How _much_ further away?” Chikara asks. He almost doesn’t want to know.

Kenji grins. “Tokyo.”

“Shut up,” Chikara says, shoving Kenji in the arm. “Don’t joke about these things.”

“I’m not joking!” Kenji says. “I got scouted by a couple of volleyball clubs and got a few offers for aerospace engineering degrees, but the University of Tokyo is the only one that offered me both, and, _by the way_ , it’s basically around the corner from Nihon, so, I’m going, and you’re coming with, and—”

Chikara grabs Kenji and kisses him like no-one is watching—which, hopefully, they aren’t.

“All that studying,” Chikara says, keeping his hands on Kenji’s shoulders, “all of that quitting before Spring High—”

“That’s _compulsory_ at my school, and at least I made it to one of your games!”

“—you did really well, huh?”

Kenji covers his face. “Ugh. I’m such a nerd.”

 

* * *

 

( **20:55** )

 

“That’s Hisashi,” Chikara says, pointing his phone camera down the table. “He’s crying because he’s just realised what graduation means.”

Hisashi gives Chikara’s phone the finger.

“Kazuhito isn’t crying yet,” Chikara continues, “but he’s always been able to keep his nerve better than the rest of us. Noya and Tanaka—I think they’ve exhausted their tear ducts for the day. They’re just telling anecdotes and making statues out of their dessert.”

“What about _me_ ,” Kenji says.

“Wait your turn,” Chikara says, continuing to pan down the table. “That’s Nametsu—and, uh, I haven’t been formally introduced to her friends yet, but they seem very nice. Nametsu probably isn’t going to cry tonight. She’s the real Iron Wall.”

“Don’t say things like that,” Kenji says. “You’re going to make _me_ cry.”

“You’ve just graduated,” Chikara says. “Indulge.”

“Not unless you do too.”

“I cried this morning,” Chikara says, giving in and turning the camera just in time to catch Kenji’s gasp.

“You said you wouldn’t!” Kenji says.

“Anyway,” Chikara says, “next to Kenji, that’s Aone…”

 

* * *

 

( **21:45** )

 

“I don’t think there’ll be room for all of us in the van,” Tanaka says with a frown, as Chikara leads the way to where he parked.

Saeko-san is catching the train in and meeting them there, but their group is larger than they’d expected and there’s no way they’ll all fit in the van.

“That’s fine,” Kenji says. “A bunch of us are going in the same direction, so we’ll get a train together.”

“Ah,” Chikara says, a few different thoughts coming together in his mind, “I’ll catch the train too.”

“Are you sure?” Kazuhito asks. “I’m sure you’ll be able to fit.”

“Yeah,” Chikara says, “I’m sure.”

 

* * *

 

( **21:51** )

 

On the way to the car, they pass a florist, miraculously still open at this hour.

“Hold on,” Chikara says, “I need to make a stop-over.”

“Oh my god,” Kenji says, “you were serious.”

“Dead serious,” Chikara says, slipping inside the store.

Kenji follows, hovering behind Chikara as he picks out a bunch of yellow and orange gerberas.

“Aren’t all flowers meant to have some secret code meaning?” Kenji asks. “What are those?”

“I don’t know,” Chikara says, shrugging. “They remind me of Saeko-san.”

They take the flowers to the counter, staffed by an old man, who wraps them up in a bouquet and puts a bow around it.

“Are these for your girlfriend?” he asks.

Chikara feels Kenji’s fingers close around his elbow, and he smiles. “No,” he says, “they’re just for saying thank you.”

On the way out, he takes a moment to laugh at the ugly frown on Kenji’s face. “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

Kenji frowns even harder.

 

* * *

 

( **22:00** )

 

“They’re beautiful!” Saeko says. “But you know, you didn’t have to!”

“I wanted to thank you,” Chikara says. “Being able to borrow your van today—it really helped.”

That, and he’s still feeling guilty about what he and Kenji did in the backseat.

Saeko gives him a broad smile. “And thank you for looking after my brother tonight!”

“Looking after—?”

Chikara glances at Tanaka, who’s slumped on Hisashi’s shoulder, crying his eyes out. Hisashi’s stopped crying himself, and is supporting Noya on his other shoulder. He looks sort of like a proud father.

“Ah,” Chikara says, “you’re welcome.”

 

* * *

 

 

( **22:03** )

 

When they say goodbye—it’s not forever, just for the night—Kazuhito’s crying too, and Hisashi has snot running down his face.

Chikara can’t stop smiling, though.

 

* * *

 

( **22:28** )

 

“Ah, we’d better hurry,” Nametsu says. “Our train is in two minutes!”

While Nametsu hastily buys a ticket, Chikara hangs back. The next train to his station isn’t for a while, but that’s not really what he’s looking for.

Chikara takes Kenji by the wrist. “Uh, wait a bit. Come back to mine.”

“Seriously?” Kenji asks. He looks kind of tired, but he’s smiling.

“Sort of,” Chikara says.

Kenji raises an eyebrow, but he tells the others to go on without him.

“So?” he asks. “What’s the plan?”

“Call your mother and say you’re staying at mine tonight,” Chikara says. “I’ll do the same—or, uh, the opposite.”

“Then what?”

“Do that first.”

Chikara has to suppress a laugh listening to Kenji on the phone. His mother’s a lawyer, so she’s hard to lie to, which is why Chikara only told him half the truth. Plus, Kenji gets weirdly flustered when he lies. After a while, Chikara gives up on eavesdropping and makes his own call.

His mother tells him to take care—he wonders if she can sense he’s about to be a little bit disobedient.

“Alright,” Kenji says. “Tell me.”

“We’re going to Tokyo,” Chikara says.

“Yeah,” Kenji says, “in a few months?”

“Now,” Chikara corrects. “We’re getting the midnight train, and we’ll sleep overnight at the station, and look for a flat to rent the next morning.”

Kenji blinks a few times, like he hasn’t quite processed this yet. “Wait, but, it’ll be the same morning by then—”

“And it’s not tomorrow until I wake up,” Chikara says.

“You’re _serious_ , aren’t you?” Kenji asks.

“Dead serious,” Chikara says. “Come on, you said it yourself—we’ll be studying so close to each other, so I figured we might as well live close too. I’ve been thinking it through—”

“Since _when_?”

“Since you told me you were going to Tokyo. The thing is, even if we can just get a small, one-bedroom flat, it’ll be cheaper than two college dorms.”

“That was a few hours ago,” Kenji says. “This is really spur of the moment, huh?”

“I’m feeling reckless today,” Chikara says. It’s hard to believe that in the morning he’d been feeling nervous.

“Fuck it,” Kenji says, grinning. “Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

( **01:43** )

 

“This is Kenji,” Chikara says, aiming his camera at where Kenji is buying a soft drink from a vending machine. “We’re moving in together soon.”

Kenji glances over his shoulder, and the look on his face makes Chikara sort of weak at the knees.

“It’s almost two in the morning, and this—”

He stands back, turns around and zooms out. 

“This is Tokyo station.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment! (Or come chat to me about rarepairs on my [blog](http://memordes.tumblr.com/)!)


End file.
